


Workplace Misconduct

by banafofool



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a Tease, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scott is oblivious, Stiles is a Tease, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Workplace AU kind of, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banafofool/pseuds/banafofool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles usually hated the sexual harassment seminars at work. Until he met the new guy running it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Workplace Misconduct

Stiles usually hated the sexual harassment seminars at work. Personally he didn't understand, seeing as there had only been one sexual harassment lawsuit in the past ten years; a manager had spilled some cold water on some unfortunate secretary in a cold room. There were nipples _everywhere_. But it's mandatory, which is why Stiles is currently in a mirrored elevator, listening to weird mirror elevator music, next to what has to be a sex god. He's just  headed to the tenth floor, no need for a boner. The tenth floor, which, by the way, smells only of bubblegum, is currently six floors away. There's a rumor that years ago someone spilled bubble gum flavored lube on the floors in there. Stiles _certainly_ did not start that rumor. On purpose. 

Anyway, there he is. Rocking back and forth on his heels, trying to contain a boner as he looks at the guy next to him; tall, evenly matched height-wise with Stiles. Everything else though is almost polar opposites. The guy has thick stubble, edging into beard territory, that Stiles wants to feel in the Nether regions. Whoops. So much for containing the boner. The guy also has soft-looking, dark hair, and a closed off scowl on his face. And the _eyebrows. Lord have mercy._  Stiles trails his look down the length of Eyebrow's body. Muscles. He's also loaded with muscles and general hotness, and he's totally out of Stiles' league. Stiles' type to a T.

Stiles realizes that he'd been staring about as soon as the guy turns to him, smirk on his face. 

"You could just ask me my name, you know," Eyebrows says, his eyebrows doing most of the work on his face. _Damn_.

 Stiles doesn't miss a beat, already accepted his social awkwardness years ago, "Well, most of my charm is based off of admiring and hoping someone has the balls to talk first. And mine's Stiles, in case that was your passive-aggressive way of asking."

Eyebrows raises the left brow, but Stiles can see the small hint of a blush high on his cheeks. The guy then looks down and away from where he'd turned his head to smirk at Stiles. Thinking the conversation is over, Stiles goes back to the rhythmic rocking on his heels, focused on the not-boner. 

"Derek." 

Stiles' head snaps up so fast that his eyes actually roll back in his head a little. He looks at Eyebrows (Derek?), and almost thinks he imagined the whispered response. Derek had murmured it as if it were some sort of secret. Stiles opens his mouth, about to probably throw himself to his knees at Derek's feet with his words, when the elevator door dings open, startling them both.

Stiles looks at the number, realizing that he has made it to the bubble gum lube floor. "Well, this is me. Nice to admire you from not-so-afar. Maybe we can do this again sometime, but actually that sounds really creepy. Sorry if my ogling bothered you, and I ironically have to go to a sexual harassment seminar." Stiles then turns to leave, trying to focus on anything but the smell of what he now associates with lube and Derek in the same hemisphere. Lube. Derek. Sex god. Awkward boner.

 Stiles is lost in his tirade of thought, but Derek looks at him pointedly. From outside the closing elevator doors.  

Derek looks at him again as Stiles' head spins uncoordinatedly back and forth from Derek to the elevator. "You do that a lot, don't you? Think too much? And then talk too much probably. Anyway, while you were off wherever your brain went, I told you that I need to get off here too. I'm going to that seminar too."

Shocked, Stiles asks, "Are you new here? The seminars always kind of suck. Good luck."

Derek smirks again, and yells without turning around from where he'd begun to walk away, "something like that."

Stiles shakes his head, confused and heads the opposite direction of Derek towards doors leading to the conference room. Almost immediately he's assaulted by the smell, and he glares at his crotch as the thought of lube floats around in his mind. He hurries to a seat after a look from his insane boss, quickly finding Scott and Lydia in the sea of crappy plastic chairs. 

Once he reaches them, Lydia gives him one look and rolls her eyes. "You're late," is all she says, and for once Stiles is thankful for Lydia leaving something out of what she's thinking. Scott just looks at him with a happy-puppy look and eagerly begins talking about what he and Allison did last night. Stiles looses track of the conversation, absentmindedly watching his coworkers filtering in. Stiles perks up when he hears the tail end of Scott saying something about her being here.

"Wait is she coming to see you for lunch or something?" Stiles asks, completely thrown for a second. Scott gives him a flat look before responding, "No, dude, remember? She got that new job with the people for the company who do these seminars? HR? She's helping out with the seminar today, her and the new team they made for this stuff." Scott then launches into another tangent about Allison's hair, and Stiles is gone again. Suddenly Stiles is hit with the memory, and he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. _No way..._

He's interrupted when his boss, Mr. Finstock, comes and jerks himself into a seat next to him. Finstock begins quoting Brave Heart and talking about how this seminar shouldn't matter if a women has a dagger tattooed on her, and any remnants of the semi Stiles had walking in has shrunk and run away to the safety of Stiles' pants. Finstock is interrupted (thank god) when someone finally comes up to the pathetically set up flat cardboard meant to distinguish a stage. The guy has curly, blond hair, introduces himself as Isaac, and Stiles thinks he sees Scott drool a little. _Here we go...._

The guy begins talking about the importance of keeping the workplace professional and Stiles thinks of the bubblegum rumor and last week when Stiles and Scott had a fart war. He chuckles to himself, when someone else walks up on stage, and again Stiles' stomach sinks. Derek gives him a cool smirk, seemingly laughing a little on the inside. _Rude_.

He's ripped back into focus when they ask for a volunteer in order to show an example of misconduct. No one raises their hand, so of course they pick Stiles by default. The walk up to the cardboard Hell is full of feelings of slight anxiety, the idea of being misconductful with Derek doing very naughty things to him. 

"So, Derek and....Stiles? Will be showing us an example of too-close-for-comfort type issues," Isaac says, seemingly unaware that Stiles could be uncomfortable in his pants from thirty feet away as long as bubblegum lube and Derek were in the forbidden mix. 

He's shuffled into a standing position on the stage, Derek behind him. As soon as Isaac says go, Stiles feels a warm hand dragging across the fabric covering his hand, leading around to the other side and then leaving him, pretending to reach for something as Derek presses his entire body against the back of Stiles'. Stiles jerks in response, letting out a very manly squeak, and instantly feels his pants beginning to feel uncomfortable. Stiles can _feel_ the smirk on Derek's face. 

Isaac begins explaining why this isn't allowed, blah blah blah, and suddenly Stiles wants to be the one teasing Derek. Looking around the room to ensure that most eyes are on Isaac, Stiles casually runs his ass up and along the inseam of Derek's leg. Derek jerks, letting out a soft gasp on Stiles' neck. Stiles does it again, dragging it out longer and pushing against Derek just a little harder. Stiles feels more than hears the soft whine Derek lets out. Stiles begins to feel a semi-hard shape pressed against him, and the thought that he made Derek hard makes his cock twitch in the confines of his pants. 

Stiles almost fist pumps in victory, but then Isaac says something, and all eyes swing back to them. Everyone, except Lydia, looks oblivious to the public almost grinding. Lydia simply smirks. Then he's being turned, facing towards Derek this time, and Isaac keeps talking, all of it background static as Derek casually runs his hands down Stiles' chest and staying put at the seam of Stiles' pants. Derek half smiles as Stiles' mouth gapes open with a wordless sound. To anyone else it may look like shock, but Stiles can feel his nipples pebbling, his body responding helplessly to the teasing ministrations. 

The world in Stiles' head is narrowed to just him and Derek, and soon enough he's being turned around again to face the audience, letting out a gasp when Derek buries his face in Stiles' neck. Isaac gestures to them, then the crowd, keeping up his talk. Stiles reaches back, letting his fingers tangle in the fabric of Derek's shirt, hitching it up slightly as he circles his hips. Derek buries an almost silent whine when he nips Stiles' throat. Containing what would surely be a loud groan, Stiles is then sent back to his seat. He rushes, readjusting himself as he sits back down. Scott just sends him a dopey smile and a thumbs up, then goes back to staring at Isaac. Lydia looks like she's containing a laugh, and Finstock is very casually edging farther away from Stiles in the seats. 

Looking back up to the stage, Stiles finally notices Allison and sends her a small wave. She doesn't notice, too focused on Scott. Stiles then swings his view back to Derek; he's obviously flustered, a high, bright red blush on his cheeks. If he looks closely, Stiles can see a slight uptick in his breathing. Stiles would feel more triumphant if he wasn't in the same state. 

"Alright, so that's the end of the seminar, thanks for listening. If anyone has any questions, they're free to come up and ask. If not, I've been told by a Finstock to tell all of you to go away. Uh, thanks?" Isaac concludes the meeting, and Stiles and Scott simultaneously shoot out of their seats to get to the stage. Scott heads for Isaac and Allison while Stiles rushes to Derek. Derek was obviously waiting for him, an eager look on his face as he pulls Stiles off the stage and out of the conference room, headed for the end of bubble gum hallway. Then Stiles is pushed into a closet filled with very unsexy cleaning supplies. 

Derek is on him in an instant. Stubble burns his lips and cheeks as Stiles eagerly kisses back, the kisses filthy and obscene, tongues dancing in the air, gentle nips and bites begin exchanged between them. Both of them are letting out whines and helpless noises, Stiles pushed against the door while Derek grinds their bodies together. Throwing his head back on a particularly good thust, Stiles feels Derek begin to trail suckling kisses down his neck, certainly leaving hickies wherever he goes. Derek pulls of his shirt and then Stiles', and Stile gasps hollowly into Derek's neck, "Lube. In my wallet, back pocket."

Derek laughs slightly before reaching into Stiles' pocket for him, grabbing his wallet. "What the fuck." Stiles hears Derek mutter, and then he remembers. "Oh shit!! Don't look at my ID!" But it's too late; Derek is laughing as he tries to pronounce Stiles' first name. Stiles blushes and rips the lube from the outside pocket. "I can't even say it," Derek laughs, "and why do you have lube? That's not very professional, is it?" 

Stiles smirks, and pulls down his pants, underwear and all, standing stark naked in the closet and blushing down to his chest. "Fine. Laugh all you want, I'm prepared. And if you're too bust over there, I can just do this myself." Stiles reaches behind himself, and pulls his cheeks open. He pushes his own lubed up finger into his hole, letting out a soft whine at the feeling. He thrusts the finger in and out, getting lost in the feeling, and vaguely registers Derek taking off his own pants and turning him around, pushing his front against the door, pushing his own fingers inside of Stiles. 

Stiles can't contain his noises at that; cries and pleas work their way out of his mouth as Derek twists and prods his fingers inside of him. Stiles screams when Derek finds his prostate, and Derek grabs at his jerking hips, cooing softly even as he mercilessly rubs that spot over and over. 

"You were such a tease, you know that? God, I wanted to rip your clothes off and fuck you right there in front of everyone," Derek executes his thought with a hard jab to Stiles' prostate, forcing a wild cry of Derek's name from his lips. 

"Please," Stiles pants, "Please, fuck me. 'M ready.. please Derek." Stiles groans as Derek pulls his fingers out before lubing his cock up. 

Derek pushes just the tip in, making Stiles quiver with need, "I want to do it like this. Like we were up there where you were practically begging for it. Is that okay?" Derek's voice goes soft and honest toward the end, and Stiles nods with a soft smile on his face. The smile is lost though, when Derek sees the nod and pushes in hard. 

"Derek!" Stiles cries, jerking at the sensation of being filled so quick. His hips roll back and forth to meet Derek's continuously hard thrusts. Derek whines softly in return, his hips stuttering when he hears the desperate tone of Stiles' voice. The closet smells of sex and faintly of bubblegum, but even that doesn't deter the helpless rutting. Stiles can feel sweat running down his own back, mixing with Derek's. Every pore of his being feels electrified, his body crying out in pleasure with every fill of Derek's cock. 

"That's it," Derek coos directly into Stiles' ear, beginning to simply roll his hips against Stiles', barely pulling out. "That's it, you're so good for me. So good Stiles. You gonna be a good boy and come for me?" 

Stiles moans, long and obscene as Derek continues to speak into his ear, telling him everything he wanted to do to him. Derek begins pulling out almost all the way slowly, and then pushing back in, hard. He's hitting Stiles' sweet spot on every thrust, and he knows it. "Come on, baby. Come like this for me. So good." 

Stiles screams in ecstasy as he comes, the feeling of being as full as possible pushing him over the edge, his come hitting his own chest. Derek works him through it, reveling in the cries of his name from Stiles' lips. His thrust become choppy and desperate, and he's finally thrown over the edge when he hears Stiles whimper a soft "please.".

Derek lets out a whine as he comes, burying himself inside of Stiles one last time as he sinks his teeth into the back of Stiles' neck.

They both pant softly as they come down, Derek pulling out of Stiles and watching, enraptured, by the sight of his come leaking from Stiles' hole. Pulling himself away, Derek trails soft, sweet kisses up Stiles shoulder and neck, meeting Stiles' lips when he turns his head. Stiles breaks away for a second, and turns around to face Derek. They kiss lightly and sweetly. They help each other to redress quietly, both still in their post-coital haze. Derek asks for if they can see each other again with red ears and cheeks, and Stiles laughs and says yes quietly. 

They walk, hand and hand, hopefully not too debauched-looking, out of the closet when Stiles laughs again. Derek gives him a puzzled look, and Stiles says "Isn't it ironic that one, we had sex at work, and two harassment has the word ass in it?"

Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can see him trying not to laugh. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Um, as usual, very un-beta'd. Sorry for any typos or just general stupidity. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
